


A kiss under candlelight | A Tomarry Fanfiction

by Hufflepuff_King



Category: Harry - Fandom, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU, Abuse, Abused Harry Potter, Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Angst, Cute, Daddy tom riddle, Dom/sub, Gay, M/M, Sad, Smut, Yaoi, howarts, tom x harry, tomarry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-23
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:27:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 9
Words: 13,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27688925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hufflepuff_King/pseuds/Hufflepuff_King
Summary: Harry has always wanted to be free, to feel safe and no longer hurt. A certain someone takes Harry's wish into his own hands but maybe, just maybe Harry got more than he bargined for.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Tom Riddle, harr - Relationship
Comments: 17
Kudos: 106





	1. Deaths ink

* * *

It was dark, darker than usual but that went unnoticed by most, for them it was like any ordinary night. For one it meant the start of the perfect plan. When all the world settled down for bed there were some up. Searching and stalking prey in the blanket of the night sky, nothing but faint candlelight of eyes glistening to guide them. Becoming the perfect trap for any moth. It was almost silent in number four privet drive. No voices and nothing an untrained ear could hear but as she made her way through the cracked open window of the kitchen around the back of this house. Little tell tale signs of life showed their way to her. The quiet dripping of a tap not turned tight enough. The humming of the fridge as it kept everything inside cool and fresh. An irritating clock tick ticking its way through the seconds, making sure to let people know that time is still passing. It told her to keep moving. Other than that, nothing else inside the kitchen made itself seen or heard.

Getting from the window to the ground was the awkward part. She let her large head sway from side to side as she looked around in order to find the best way. She moved herself over the sink, twitching at the coldness of the steel. Once at the edge she slowly made her way down the cupboard door and finally onto the ground that was also just as cold as the steel of the sink. None of these little things mattered. She was on a misson and had to follow through. There was no going back now, she intended to follow through no matter the obstical. The floor grew warmer as she left the kitchen and came onto the carpet. New sounds, new smells and new things to see. Again there was the ticking of a clock. She shook her head in annoyance as it tormented her. If only she could destroy them. That was not on her order though. She would do as her master said, no more and no less. It was dark, only a little light peaking through the curtain which bounced off of her. That was ignored easily, she was more drawn to the cupboard under the stairs. From there was a sweet metalic scent of fresh and old blood; acompanied by quite sniffles. Such a sound pulled her back to her task at hand. Her master wouldn't be happy of her taking so long.

As silent as the night, she found her way around to the stairs. She lifted her head and pulled herself up to the handrail, she twisted and turned as she moved through each poll to work her way up. This was a much easier way to travel up and down rather than just letting herself fall almost. Going upside down wasn't unusual but it didn't feel that great. She was almost there, she was going to make him proud. Hopefully she didn't make any mistakes. She needed to find the right room.

"First room on the left, strike hard, strike fast,"

Following the orders, she moved from the handrail to the ground once more, moving around to the door on the left. Thankfully it was opened just the slightest. Such a convienence. Her tongue flickered and quietly she snuck inside. Her mission was sleeping rather loudly on a single bed. His snores would soon be silenced. One hand flopped out of the bed and his blanket barely covered him. Such a disgusting and pathetic excuse for a person. Without wasting any time, she slid up the bed post and striked fast. She reared back before springing forward and biting the boys neck, blood poured into her mouth. He screamed but she did this repetively until he couldn't scream any longer. She then proceeded to constrict herself around him. White skin turned purple as the life seaped from him. She only stopped when she could no longer feel him alive in her grip. He went limp, his body flopping into her.

-/-

Sleepy eyes were rubbed and groans echoed through the master bedroom of four privet drive. Vernon and Petunia Dursely were finally waking up. The mattess crunched under the fat man's weight as he rolled over with a grunt. Petunia looked over to her husband and rolled her eyes. How did she come to this? Married to a fat man who was going completely and utterly crazy and mother to a spoilt child. Not only that but her sister had to go and get herself killed. Now, she had to look after another stupid child. A child that reminded her that her sister was loved more by everyone. Instead of laying there like she knew Vernon would do, Petunia pushed herself upright in order to go downstairs and make breakfast for the three. She refused to waste her money on a child that wasn't even her own. The woman yawned and stretched before hearing the familiar raspy voice of the man she married.

"Was it just me or was that the best nights sleep you ever had?"

"I know, its like nothing could have woken me up but I had this awful dream," she replied and that was that. She stood up and took her gown from the door. She slipped her arms inside and tied the rope around her wasit tightly. Before heading downstairs Petunia made sure to head over to Dudley's room and attempt to call him awake. As she went over it was strangely quiet. No usual snoring or obsessant tossing and turning in the bed. With her brows knitted together she knocked on the door that was already ever so slightly open but much more open than normal.

"Dudykins?" She called through the door and slowly stepped inside.

The sight she saw was one so sickening it brought her to her knees. She fell to the ground, her eyes wide and her hand over her mouth. It was shaking viciously. In the grip of silent panic, wild eyes, pupils dilated, heart racing. Brain punding and firing like a hyped up internal orcustra, like a cluster bomb exploding in her brain, It turned her brain to a mental soup of conflicting instructions. Run, cry, scream. Brain frozen. Petunia's stomach flipped inside of her and she gagged, throwing up nothing but bile and saliva. She heaved and sobbed as realisation kicked its way in. Distraught; she crawled over to her son's lifeless body, whimpering and shivering as she did. Over and over and over she whispered words of denial. Once her warm hands touched his cold skin; hands soaking in his blood she let out a blood curdling scream. A scream so loud the house could have shook.

With a few loud bashes, Vernon was in there. His breathing heavy and his eyes wide. He looked around the room and read the words on the wall that were written with thick red lines. Blood. His sons blood. Vernon's blood boiled as he read the words. He walked over to his whailing wife and now dead son. He came down next to them and looked over Dudleys body.

If he bleeds, one of you shall bleed too.

"He did this Petunia. Potter did this," Vernon said, a bitter taste on his tongue.

Petunia looked up, her eyes already red and cheeks wet. She didn't believe it, Harry couldn't do this could he? he was just a boy. Sure Vernon and Dudly would hurt him but Dudly was just a child and didn't deserve to die. Right?

"Make him suffer."


	2. Lucky

"What? What did I do? I didn't do anything! Please!" The young boy cried out, Vernon standing in front of him, chest heaving and nostrils flaring. He looked like a bull in a ring, a bull ready to charge with horns pointed towards him. 

Vernon had stormed into Harry's pathetic excuse for a room, flicking the lock and startling the boy awake with words of anger and hatred. Harry sat up in a panic, he easily felt the panic begin like a cluster of spark plugs in his malnourished abdomen. Tension grew in his face and limbs as he stiffened, his mind replaying the last attack from this beast of a man. However, this felt like it was going to be worse than that, much, much worse. Especially after such a pleasant nights sleep. The dream he had was filled with happiness and love. This was the very opposite of that. His breathing became more rapid, more shallow. Harry shuffled himself backwards; pushing his body into the corner of the small room. Vernon scoffed at how pathetic Harry looked. He wanted to kill him but that would just be letting him off too kindly. He wanted to see the pain in his eyes and watch him bleed. Maybe bringing close to death but not completely and let infection, pain and blood loss brin him to deaths door. He chuckled maliciously. What a sight that would be. It would be revenge but also fun. He hated the boy anyway and it wouldn't be anything new. The only new would be the force of the pain and the out come. 

"Get up!" Vernon spat but Harry seemed to be taking too long for his liking. It was dificult standing when your body is littered in wounds of all sizes and shapes. It didn't help that he could never eat either. "I said get the fuck up."

With a whimper, Harry's hair was grabbed roughly and he was quickly pulled to his feet. Pain stung through his body like a wasp's sting. Vernon dragged Harry out of the cupboard by his hair and got shoved back to the ground. Vernon's face was one of disgust, like touching Harry was the most vile thing he could ever touch. His eyes were narrowed but behind them was pain. He hated Harry but already he missed Dudley's annoying spoilt behaviour. That pain just fueled his anger like oxygen to a flame. Harry quickly scrambled to his feet, it clear it was quite the struggle. He had to bite through the pain, if he didn't he knew Vernon would just get angrier. As soon as he was up, his hair was once again grabbed and he was pulled up the stairs. Harry's eyes widened and he began to frail about, kicking and tugging in order to get out of the others grip. He had never been up here before and fear of the unknown settled in. The pair almost fell down the stairs but Vernon wasn't having any of it. He slammed Harry's face into the wooden stairs and almost growled. 

"Stop that!" he snarled and began dragging him up the stairs once again. Harry's face now bled and his cheek bone had already began bruising a deep purple. 

No longer did he struggle, he hung his head and let himself be dragged. His mind swirling through the possible reasons Vernon was bringing him up here. He knew Vernon had said that he did something but wouldn't tell him what. Something told Harry he was about to find out. He shivered at the thought and just awaited his punishment. They reached the top of the stairs and without any sort of regard for Harry's wellbeing he dragged him along the ground by his thin and dirty hair. It had a greasy feel and was thinning with each passing day. 

Harry closed his eyes, letting the memories of the dream seap into his thoughts. He wanted nothing more than to be rid of these people, to be loved and cared for. He wanted to feel safe. The reminisance of the dream quickly ended as he was thrown into a room that was filled with sobs. Sobs that weren't his own. Harry slowly opened his eyes, his brows knitted together in confusion. What he saw he didn't expect. There Dudley was, laying in Petunia's arms clearly dead. Part of Harry saw him as lucky but the other part of him felt for Petunia. As much as Dudly was a horrible boy, he was still just that. He had a life ahead of him and it wasn't fair. Harry looked around and saw the words. He frowned a little and looked up to Vernon who was glaring down at him. 

"y-you think I did this?" He asked and Vernon could have turned into a predator then and there. He glared at Harry and grabbed his hair to lift him. 

"You did!" Vernon snapped. "This has you written all over it."

"But I di-"

"Get him out of here Vernon, I don't want him here," Petunia said through the crying, her voice dry and croaky. Vernon did as he was told; dragging Harry back out of the room. It was the beginging of his fun and Harry's pain. 

There was a scream as Harry flew down the stairs, his body hitting the steps and cracks echoing through the walls of the house as bones broke and dislocated. Harry laid at the bottom, silent. Sometimes the pain crushes you- it leaves you incapable of everything. It leaves you broken- in and out. The tears won't roll down, and the screams won't escape past your quivering lips. The hallucinations would come, but they'd not allow you to react and let the steam go. They'd force the steam to keep burning you, staining you. Harry seemed to be just like that. His head pounded and there seemed to be two fat men bumbling down the stairs instead of one. 

Tough times do last, Harry knew that better than anyone. Tough people don't last, at first he showed a tough face but he couldn't handle it anymore. The pain was too much. Some really face pain- unspoken, and terrible. One sending disgusting shivers down your spine. Some pain, which makes you want to shatter everything in vision, because you can't stand something perfect near your broken soul. They are the ones who really don't come out of dramas, novellas and films. The pain is real, and so is the agony. The perfection would be death but Harry didn't want death. He wanted to live his life safe and protected. It was clear Vernon wasn't going to let that happen for him. Vernon made his way down the steps and grabbed Harry. The pain only amplified as he was taken down to the basement. Harry's whole body ached and he felt his head spining and wanted to throw up. 

"You are going to wish you never hurt my boy," Harry was scared, more scared he had been in a while. He whimpered as he was dropped to the ground. He shook his head and tried to get away but he couldn't. His eyes watered and he opened his mouth to speak but it was too late. Vernon knocked him out with one smooth punch, leaving his body limp. Vernon grinned. He could now do _anything_ he wanted to him. He wanted to see blood, he wanted to see open flesh. He wanted Harry to feel more pain than humanely possible.


	3. Experiment

Real blood is nothing like movie blood, just as real death is nothing like movie death. There is no amount of horror that can prepare a person for seeing the life ebb from another, the hopelessness, the tearing at the soul that is the departing of the other and yet, Vernon loved it. Each wound wether it be large or small was almost pleasurable to see. Each new droplet of blood have him grinning. He couldn't get enough. It was his drug, it was like cocaine to an addict. 

Before starting, Vernon pulled a chair up next to Harry and sat down; knife in hand and a sadistic look on his face which was only emphasised by the multiple chins. He wanted Harry to be awake for this. Any hunter looks for the weak spots in an animal but in Vernon's mind there was no one weak spot on this boy. He was weak all over. Head to toe. Vernon could do as he pleased and nothing would go wrong. Some people would call him evil, but he would refused and just say that he was just wired differently or maybe that Harry deserved it. Others look at a child with no parents and see something cute, something to look after, but he saw something he can kill. He saw something that could suffer, afterall Harry was just in the way. Killing him would be too easy, Vernon wanted to see how long he can last while he disemboweled him. Nice and slow. He wants to see the light go out in his dulling eyes while he examined it's innards. He could say it's for science, but that would be a blatant lie. The truth is he enjoyed it with every fibre of his being. He got a kick out of it. All he wished was that he could record it on his phone too so he can play it over and over to relive the moment. In some human cultures a guy like him would be valued for their skills, they would be honoured. He was the perfect butcher and Harry; his first victim.

Harry slowly woke up, groaning in pain. His mind swirled and his body ached. Nothing new. _Thank god, it was just a dream_. He thought with a faint sigh. As if Vernon could hear the boys thoughts, he laughed and slowly pressed his foot down into Harry's stomach. Harry whimpered and shut his eyes tight. He didn't want this. He was so tired of hurting, so tired of being Vernon's little experiment. All his prayer's were in vain, no one had come to his rescue and God certainly wasn't there for him. He felt silly for thinking there was someone looking over him. It was only himself. Only he could stick up for himself. He had no one. Vernon moved his foot only to kick Harry swiftly in the side. Harry groaned and rolled over in pain, he curled himself into his stomach to protect anything valuable. Normally he would just bend over and wait for it to end but there was a voice, a voice he couldn't quite explain. He wanted to listen, to obey the voice's orders but he was so scared. He shived and shook, flinching at each little sound Vernon made. 

_Harry, listen to me, you are stronger than you know, you can fight him, don't give up._

This voice was like someone whispering in his ear, it was the same voice from his dream so he didn't believe it. However, there was a faint spark inside him that gave him the energy he needed. Vernon's foot came again, flipping Harry onto his stomach roughly. Harry cried out and pushed his arms so he was just sat on his knees, his weight resting on his wrists. Harry coughed, blood splurting out from his lips onto the cold concrete. Vernon smirked, kneeling down and gripping Harry's hair. He lifted his head and smirked at the bruises forming on his face. 

"No!" Harry screamed as Vernon brought up the knife; shoving him away. Vernon fell onto the ground with a thud. His eyes were wide and his mouth open. Sure, Harry would protest ocassionally but he never dared to actually fight back. Harry seemed just as shocked. His eyes were wide as well. 

The shock soon became anger, a burning and bubbling anger than could spill over any second. Vernon stood, the knife held firmly in his hand as he stalked over to Harry. He was the predator and Harry the prey. Harry shook his head quickly and shuffled backwards in attempts to get away. He regretted it instantly but he couldn't stop now. 

"No, no! I-I'm sorry, please, no! don't" he pleaded, his eyes wet and filling with tears. He didn't want this, in the years he had been enduring this abuse not once had Vernon put a knife against his skin. The animalistic look in Vernon's eyes were like something out of a horror movie. 

Eventually Harry hit the wall and could no longer move. Vernon stood in front of him and there was no escape. He held the blade in his right hand with a firm grip as he came down to Harry, his knee in between the boys legs, leaning down and ripping the rag for a shirt off of his body. Harry had gone silent, whimpering and trying to move back but there was no escaping. No way out of this. All he could do was accept his fate. 

"Hm, what name shall I give you." He thought out loud. Vernon moved so his hand was hovering over the boy's stomach. As he did he let the tip of the blade press against the skin. Due to him being so mistreated his skin wasn't as strong as everyone elses, his skin was so soft and easily cut so that action alone pierced the skin causing sticky scarlet to dribble out and roll down the skin in beads. The pain wasn't too bad yet but of course, he cried more and more, wanting to be back in the cupboard instead of this cold place, he wanted to be rid of this family. 

Then it came, a wave of excruciating pain and warmth flooded over the boy, the blade gliding over his body messily in attempts to create a word. It was much harder than he thought, not like pen on paper, it was much like a craft he would like to perfect. Crimson liquid spewed slowly from each cut, dripping onto the concrete floor and staining it red. The deathly fluid felt warm against both Vernon's and Harry's skin, it sticking to them in stains of scarlet. Misery, that's what this was. Just pure and utter misery. Harry was in agony and the hair on the back of his head drenched in phlegm, saliva and tears. He didn't stop crying and his throat went dry, it hurt his throat but he couldn't stop. The ache in his stomach was more than this boy could bear. It burnt and itched like it was happening over and over again. Vernon did as he pleased, draining the life from Harry with each slice. Each punch, each kick, each little think Vernon decided to do had Harry fading futher and futher into the abyss of peace. Vernon had stopped after what seemed like hours.He stared at his work in pride. If he was lucky Harry would stay here and slowly die, he hoped it would be slow and painful. He laughed at his thoughts and stood. 

"Have fun dying just like my son did," and with that, he left Harry alone. 

Harry was alone. Forgotten by everyone. Blood was still flowing out of his body it was like an endless flowing stream. He begged it would stop. He wished it would just end already. Everything hurts. His body was dying and he knew it, the floor felt like rocks and grit rubbing into every single wound. It was pure agony. He didn't want to take this anymore, he wanted somebody to find him already but knew that would never happen. Harry had always been lonely but in these last few moments he felt more lonely than ever. All this wouldn't be half as bad if he just had somebody with him, somebody to talk to, somebody to hold him. As time went on, Harry closed his eyes and let his body relax, he was going to let himself go, he couldn't hold on any longer. A gust of air blew through the basement but Harry didn't pay any mind to it, he just laid there, in his own blood and filth. 

"Fuck," A voice Harry just barely recognised. His eyes opened a little but his vision was blury, he felt himself fading...fading...

"Shhh, I've got you now," was all he heard before everything went black. 


	4. Soul Mate

No one can predict when they will meet their soul mate. You will meet when the souls are ready for you to meet, for the souls have been together for all of eternity. They can't wait to be back in each others arms again. Fate and destiny contribute to the romantic bliss and happiness where both partners are so immersed in the strong connection. Sometimes things go right, other times things go wrong, the universe can make a few mistakes. The relationship between soul mates has a certain magical, mystical feel to it. 

The love is so strong and the chemistry is unexplainable. Their souls are one and they can communicate in ways unfathomable. Destiny makes sure these people find each other and gives two people the opportunity to have a fabulous relationship, grow as people and learn valuable lessons. A soul mate relationship is a concert being conducted by the universe. With your soul mate before you, you shed and masks that deny love. You both work together in balance and always striving for equality and respecting each others contributions. Love is the center of everything you do, they will be magnified with the power you need to manifest your dreams together. It is possible to feel that their souls are connected no matter the distance but sometimes, one soul is ready much more quickly than the other which can lead to confusion and fear. Everything blends together harmoniously, conversations flow seamlessly, you feel their touch when apart and their voice in your mind peacefully, and yet, sometimes you don't understand why.

A soul mate is your twin, a reflection of yourself, someone that will hold your hand and walk with you in darkness. Your soul mate makes you proud of everything they do or say, you find enlightening. A soul mate completes you.It seemed that through Harry's misery and loneliness he hadn't been completely alone. Tom Marvolo Riddle. A wizard of great power had been watching him for a year now. Although he was in his early fifties, he still looked as good as he did when he left Hogwarts. He had found the philospher's stone and drank from it to stay young. He wanted to stay young and never grow old, that want only grew stronger when he found Harry. He had been gaining his strength back when he found him. It took a lot to be able to gain the kind of comunication he now had with the boy and it took a lot from him. It was a skill he was still mastering. 

With being able to talk to Harry came its consequence's, he felt Harry's emotions, his pain and could feel him there at all times. The abuse the boy recieved from his uncle and cousin had Tom beside himself. He wanted to kill them all, to see them suffer like Harry had but he couldn't. He knew the laws of using magic in front of muggles and when Harry came into his sight he ignited the light in him. A light he never knew he had. It was like a candlelight and with each time he set eyes on his soul mate, the candle recieved its oxygen. 

He had sent Nigini, a loyal friend since he was just sixteen to send a certain message. He wanted them to leave Harry alone but apparently he had made it worse and now not only did he hate himself but he wanted to watch Vernon suffer. That would have to wait. Right now he needed to make sure Harry was okay. He had felt his pain and had been brought to his knees. Harry was fading and it was ripping him in half. His soul was on fire, screaming at him as Harry fell futher and futher. He seemed to be getting futher away and Tom hated every moment of it. Tom was so distraught that he grew flustered, rushing around in a panic instead of collecting himself and knowing what to do. 

"Masssster, breathe," Nigini spoke, her tongue flicking out of her mouth as she did. "Apparate to him, sssssave him."

Tom stopped and took a deep breath, he closed his eyes for a few seconds just to relax himself before looking down to his best friend. He crouched down and stroked the scales on the top of her head. It wasn't slimy or horrible, it was soft and silky. Ever since he found he could talk to them, he loved them with all his heart. 

"Thank you Nigini," Tom whispered.

He stood and closed his eyes as he prepared himself. He had done this many times and just had to concentrate. The next thing he knew everything went black; he was pressed very hard from all directions; he could not breathe, there were iron bands tightening around his chest; his eyeballs were being forced back into his head; his ear-drums were being pushed deeper into his skull. All something that no longer bothered him. Afterall he had learnt to apperate when he was a mere boy. The sight in front of him was one that would stick with him for the rest of time. The boy that laid there was his soul mate and yet he didn't look like it. He was so broken and bruised. It pained Tom to see. His eyes watered, his hard facade failing him. 

"Fuck," he muttered and fell to his knees before Harry. He reached his hands out to touch him but retracted it. He felt as though any small touch would break him, shatter him into a million small shards.

He watched him open his eyes, those emerald green eyes. Tom would have basked in them if they didn't hold so much pain, he could see them dulling by the second. As long as they were open, Tom knew Harry was well and deed alive. Tom edged closer, he could tell Harry was out of it and was too scared to even question who he was. Tom's heart clenched, it throbbing painfully in his chest. He put his hand where it was and gripped the clothes around it in attempts to help the pain. It then hit him, if his heart hurt this bad what did that mean for Harry? He looked at him and his eyes fluttered close. Tom's panic sparked again and he jumped forward to try and make sure he stayed alive. He had quickly become stained in Harry's blood and it made him feel sick. Not because it was gross but his stomach flipped at the idea of Harry being this hurt. 

"Shhh, I've got you now," Tom whispered as he held Harry to his chest. It happened all too quickly, Harry had gone putty in his hands, he was limp and that terrified Tom, more than anything had before. 

Tom knew he shouldn't waste any time, especially if he was going to save Harry so as soon as he had him properly in his arms he appirated back home. Nigini was waiting there already, she could smell Harry's blood and as much as it smelt so sweet and divine to her she restrained herself. Tom would definetly not be very pleased if she hurt his soul mate. Slowly, Tom got Harry into his bed, it was a large bed with a warm duvet and memory foam pillows. Tom didn't care one bit if it got ruined. Material could be replaced, Harry could not. Tom was a mess, he was panicking and couldn't stop the tears from rolling down his cheeks. It was such a strange feeling. He frowned and touched his face. He knew what cryng was but had never cried himself. He shook his head and slapped his cheeks to wake himself up a bit. 

"Focus Riddle, focus," he muttered to himself before calling someone. This wasn't something he could fix. He needed a witch trained in medicine. He called St Mungo's hospital for magical maladies and injuries, he was rather impatient; pacing back and forth while constantly checking Harry's pulse every two seconds. 

"Hello? Finally! I need help, I have Harry potter here and he is dying. He's losing a lot of blood and is there any way you can help?" He spoke in a panic, usually he would have demanded but for Harry, everything became sweet. 

"Harry Potter? Dying?" The nurse retorted back. 

"Yes! are you deaf?" Tom snapped back, his body itching with iritation. 

"Don't be rude young man, bring him in. I will have the docotrs waiting and be quick!"

Before she could have finished, Tom set down the phone and rushed to pick Harry up once more, he cringed as he did, feeling the wetness of the blood on his hands. He was worried he would make things worse but he knew the doctors would make him better. If they didn't they would have the dark lord on their hands. Apparating so much took a lot out from him but to him it was worth it. If Harry was to live, a little tiredness and sickness wouldn't even matter. It only took a few seconds to be at St Mungo's and another few for Harry to be snatched away from him. His heart sunk to watch Harry being taken away, it felt so good to hold him but he hoped it would be for the best. 

"Please stay," Tom whispered and closed his eyes, his heart aching to be back beside his little soul mate. 


	5. My candle

Healer's and Mediwizards did what they could for Harry. Bleeding was stopped and wounds were patched up as best as they could. Harry was in a bad state when he got to them and was already fighting for his life, it was difficult to pull him out and get him stable. They attatched fluids and mutiple spells put on him to be watching him on the clock. The life support spell which was much like a muggle machine for the same thing beeped insesently, a constant torturous reminded to Tom that Harry still may not make it. If anyone saw him now, it would shock them beyond comprehension. He looked completely different. It was killing him seeing Harry like this and he blamed himself. He looked just as dead as Harry did. His body slumped instead of held up right. His hair was a greesy mess that fell over his forehead which only complimented his blood shot eyes and black bags underneathe. 

It had been two weeks now since Tom had brought him here and he refused to leave Harry's side. St Mungo's had insisted that visiting hours ended when the sun went down but after his rage the first few nights they caved in. They didn't want to deal with him every night. He didn't leave to clean, to eat or to do anything. Harry was all he could think about. He sat by his side and watched him constantly. He wanted to see his eyes, he wanted to hold him. He wanted to watch him improve instead of stay stuck in this constent state. 

The hospital room. Its walls are simply cream, not peeling or dirty, just cream. There is no decoration at all apart from the flowers dotted around next to other beds that loved ones brought in. He was thankful for the limp curtain that could separate Harry's bed from the others in there. It was perhaps once the kind of green that reminds people of spring-time and hope, but it's faded so much that the hue is insipid. The room had an undertone of bleach and the floor was simply grey. At the far end are windows in brown metal frames, only openable at the top. Tom wanted Harry somewhere he could call home, somewhere he could call a safe haven, not this dingey place or the sick excuse for a home he use to live at. Tom's eyes narrowed. If he could, he would kill Dumbledor for letting Harry be therem when he knew very well of what they were like. As Tom sat there, his head in his hands and his ears listening for any sign of change in Harry he felt a breeze on the back of his neck. The strange thing? The window was in front of him, not behind. He stiffened and slowly straightened his back. Tom's gaze stayed on Harry but his lips turned to a frown instead of a straight line. He knew who it was and grew irritated. 

"How dare you come here, right now," Tom muttered, his voice croaky and harsh. There now stood three, one witch and two wizards. Just a few of his death eaters. Tom closed his eyes a moment, figuring out who they were by just listening. He knew those who where loyal inside and out. _Bellatrix, Crouch, Severus._ He thought and rolled his eyes. He wished his servents would listen when he told them to not bother him until they heard from him. Then again it was the first time he had disappeared. Tom shook his head. It shouldn't be an excuse. 

"But my lord," Lestrange started, pausing in her words as she stepped forward and watched her master's body tense in anger. 

"The plan's should be moving ahead," Barty Crouch Jr's voice was rough yet also had a high note to it, he seemed to always be out of breath and had a strange tick, his tongue would flick out of his mouth to the side of his face, much like a snake. "We can't continue without you."

"Ignore these baffoon's," Severus scoffed, stepping up to Tom's side and looking over Harry. His heart ached. Lily's son. It confused him, the man beside him killed Harry's parents and gave him this life and yet he truly looked pained. What happened to their dark lord?

Before Snape could say much else, Tom stood, the chair flying backwards in a fury. The three stepped to the side and watched as the Tom they knew showed himself. Both Bellatrix and Crouch smirked and Snape kept the same solumn look on his face. Tom's chest heaved and he turned to look between all three of them. If they could his eyes would be burning with the fire of all the lives he had taken. He wasn't afraid to take three more. 

"Our plan's do not matter right now!" Tom snapped, his teeth grazing his lip and his hands running through his matting hair. "Nothing matter's right now, there will be a time but this is not the time nor place."

Tom was angrier than a cat in heat, his head clawing at him in two directions. One was to not care about this boy and continue on the path of the dark lord he was and the other was to never let him go again. That Harry was his little candlelight. He was afraid of the dark. He turned swiftly back to Harry, standing against the bed and finally plucking the nerves to hold his hand. Somehow, it soothed him; calmed his anger. 

"Now leave, do not come back because trust me, the killing curse is as easy as singing the alphabet," Tom ordered, his voice quieter and somehow more frightening. 

"Yes m'lord," the three said in unison and it was with that, that they were gone. They were clearly frustrated and impatient. Both Barty and Bellatrix wanted to do some killing or torturing but with no orders they had nothing. 

"Stop pouting," Snape scoulded at the two, his head held high and his eyes narturally narrowed. 

"Easy for you! you can torment children whenever you like," Bellatrix whined but it seemed Severus had, had enough with her. He stepped away and apparated back to hogwarts. Not that she cared, her and Crouch could find something entertaining enough while they waited for their Dark Lord to return back to them. 

Tom felt them leave as he had when they came. Once he knew he was alone, he let himself crumble. Riddle fell to his knees beside the bed, his hand still tightly grasping Harry's colder one. He let his head rest against the hospital mattress, his eyes once again filling with tears. For anyone it would look like he was the boys father, Harry was only almost coming up to being eleven. Old enough for hogwarts and Tom much older than that. Soul mates didn't work like that and Tom was not that much of a creep. He knew what was install for him and his self control. He was going to protect Harry, be like the father he never had until he was old enough. Thankfully Tom was never going to grow old so it was a waiting game. That is what everything seemed to be like at the moment with Harry. It was all waiting, waiting and waiting. Tom would wait some more if thats what it took. 

While at Harry's side, the insesent beeping got louder and more panicked. Tom looked up, getting to his feet in a hurry. It didn't seem right. Harry's body began to convulse and the healers and Mediwizards rushed in. Tom's eyes widened and he tried to stick by him, hold on to him, anything to make sure he didn't slip through his fingers but from not eating or drinking he had grown weaker than he usually was. They were able to drag him out and keep him out while working on not letting Harry flatline. Tom screamed and kicked. He wanted to be back there. He promised he wouldn't let Harry be alone anymore. He fought as hard as he could, not once giving up. He was always known to be like that. There wasn't a day he had given up in his entire existance. It took a lot but it didn't go to vain, a few more kicks and he was out of their grasp and back inside the room. 

Once he was, the beeping completely stopped. Tom's heart stopped but for some reason it didn't hurt. That was when he saw them. Those beautiful green eyes. They looked so scared and confused. All the wizards around them seemed to finally breathe in relief. 

"W-where am I?" Harry could hardly talk, his voice was so dry that he coughed over his words. 

Tom rushed forward, once more letting the wet tears roll down. He wanted to hug him, to scream but he needed to stay as calm as he could. Harry flinched and looked at Tom with fear. Tom of course noticed and frowned. He slowly took Harry's hand, only to feel him tense under his touch. 

"Shh shhh, its me. Remember my voice? you are safe." He tried to reassure but Harry looked just as confused. 

"Am I dead?"

"No, Harry, I got you here just on time it seems. No, don't worry, don't be scared. They can't hurt you anymore."

Harry didn't believe him but nodded. The Mediwizards left to let him get adjusted for a little while. Tests can wait. 


	6. Home

"I...I really wish you hadn't," Harry let out an exhasperated sigh as he held the cup of water in his hands. 

"hm?" Tom hummed, looking up from the ground as he did. It had been silent moments before so Harry speaking up came a bit of a shock to his now disturbed thoughts. 

"Save me I mean, I wish you just let me die," Harry spoke again, adjusting his words and explaining himself better. Once he had, Harry brought the cup back up to his lips and sipped the soothing water. It felt so good to drink so freely. 

Tom's mouth opened in a shocked manner but once he realised it was like that he quickly closed it and stood, adjusting the shirt he wore and clearing his throat. He noticed Harry flinch and frowned, he wanted to show Harry that no one will ever hurt him again but he knew he needed to be slow with him. His stomach had sunk at Harry's words and he felt as though someone had punched him with all their might. He felt sick at the idea of Harry dying and to see he had given up was the worst. 

"I will never let you die Harry, I've been watching you, I tried protecting you from afar but that made it worse and I'm so sorry," His eyes watered and he closed them as the tears rolled down his cheeks. Harry turned his head to look at Tom relucatantly. He was shocked and yet his heart felt warmth for the first time. He had never been shown any ounce of love or care and yet, the man that stood beside him was crying because Harry wanted to die. He felt a twinge of guilt and confusion hit him, such confusing feelings for him. He chewed his bottom lip with anxiety as he placed the cup on the bed side table and let his eyes lock on Tom's hand. Hands. Hands were always a point of pain and sadness for him, Vernon showed him that hands were a thing to be feared but he remembered the feeling of a hand in his own when he was trapped in his own mind. 

"I'm sorry, I-I didn't know. It's not your fault that he did that to me. It wasn't something I could avoid," Harry said slowly, his voice quiet. As he spoke he let his hand reach out to gently take Tom's hand. 

Tom opened his mouth to speak but he was quickly stunned into silence as he felt the small hand of Harry's come into contact with his larger one. As much as it was a surprise Tom loved every second he could feel the others skin. He visably relaxed and gave a soft smile. Harry watched and somehow relaxed himself. Holding Tom's hand made him feel unbelievably safe and it made him never want to let go. He relaxed into the bed and continued holding his hand. 

"I should have taken you away straight away but nevermind that now, you are safe and will be coming back to mine tonight," Tom told him. 

"Yours? Don't I have to go back home?" Harry asked with a frown. Tom scowled at the ground, his body tensing and his grip tightening on Harry's hand. Harry whimpered and cowered in on himself. "Sorry," 

Tom looked up and scolded himself for scaring Harry. He kneeled down next to the bed, holding Harry's hand in both of his. His eyes holding all the guilt he could muster. The dark lord had a horrible temper but by just looking at him, Harry could turn that anger to just calm waters. He didn't mean to scare Harry but then again the boy was just one big ball of fear. Not that Tom blamed him. 

"I'm sorry Harry, I didn't mean to scare you or get angry but...I can't bare the thought of you back there. You don't have to do anything you don't want to do. You are your own person but I will not allow you to live there."

Harry listened to Tom, relaxing once again. It seemed strange and he felt as though it all may be some kind of sick prank Vernon was playing on him. To have him get better and feel cared for only for that to be all to be torn down and for him to be destroyed again. If that was the plan Harry didn't think he could live through it. Still, he nodded and slowly let his hand slip from Tom's one to adjust and get comfortable again. It seemed to be just perfect timing as one of the healers walked in. She went by the name Gwenda Derwent. The old healer who also went on to be headmistress at Hogwarts -Dilys Derwent- had left in the 1740's but Gwenda was a descendent of her and a skilled healer. Behind her was a clipboard and pen floating and following. Harry's eyes widened and he looked at Tom for reassurance but he just chuckled before mouthing the words _I will tell you later._

"Mr Potter?" The short yet round woman spoke, her hair sitting over her cheeks in attempts to hide the roundness. 

Harry and Tom both looked up at her, waiting to see what it was that she wanted. Tom hoped it was to discharge Harry but tried not to get his hopes up. That seemed to always be the worst part of wanting things. 

"I think we are ready for you to leave now but I will have one of our mediwizards come out to see you and change the dressings once a week. You need to rest as much as possible and start eating slowly," she turned to look at Tom. "I trust you to follow all this through?"

Tom nodded and started putting his things together. He wanted to show the happiness but kept himself containted. He refused to show emotion to anyone but Harry. Harry was the only one who was allowed to see that part of him. Everyone else had to see the dark lord he was. However to Harry, he would show him his light side, he would be his nightlight for as long as Harry was scared. 

"Okay, Well you are free to go," Gwenda spoke and with a wave of her wand all the beeping and stat's disappeared. He was met by a soothing silence and he sighed softly. Part of him was glad to be going but the other was fearful of leaving. At least here if he was hurt they could fix it all. Tom slowly reached out for Harrys hand, a smile on his lips once the woman had left. 

"Its time to go home now, Harry," he whispered before closing his eyes. 


	7. Parseltongue

It was sitting on the crest of the hill, positioned, staring over the marshes. Its hair was a green ivy, swamping it in a green façade, French windows peeking through the green like mischievous eyes through a long fringe. The house looked almost as if it was natural as it was blended into the green garden by the ivy clambering up its side. The skin of red bricks looked as if they had been burnt by the sun. The garden sloping down steeply down towards the marsh as if it was a pedestal for the house: presenting it in all its grandness. The house was beautifully symmetrical, two wings stretching to each side reaching out to touch the fences on each side. The house positioned over the marshes with a view of the river drunkenly meandering its way to the edge of the horizon.

Harry didn't expect what he saw when he was brought inside the house. He was laid in Tom's arms and had half expected to be back with the Dursleys but the walls that surrounded him were no match. He felt himself relax and sigh in relief. To which Tom glanced down to the boy with a confused look. 

"Do you not like it?" Tom asked. 

"Oh, no, no its not that, its lovely, really," Harry shook in fear, as much as Tom would say he wouldn't hurt him, fear was a instinct beaten into him. 

Tom chuckled softly and smiled as he stepped futher into the building. He couldn't help it. Harry was just adorable. He wanted to stare at him, poke his nose and just cuddle. The dark lord wanted to cuddle. Who would have thought?Nagini had heard her master return so made herself heard by slithering out from under a set of draws that sat under the stairs. She retracted up so she could climb up Tom's leg; heaving her body up onto his shoulders and looking down at Harry. Harry was silent, looking at her in awe. Her black scales glistened and he thought she was beautiful. Most where scared of here so to see not an ounce of fear in the boys eyes was invigerating. She gently pressed the top of her head against his cheek. 

"Itssssss good to ssssee you back masssster," she hissed. 

Tom nodded and with the two sitting on him still he climbed up the stairs. He was glad to. Seeing Harry so fascinated by Nagini made him all the happier. He could trust her to keep him entertained if he god forbid had to leave his side. Harry's eyes widened as he heard the snake speak, he didn't know animal's could talk. He hated how new everything seemed. How he had been trapped in a little box when there was a whole world of wonders waiting to be seen. 

"Animal's can talk?" he asked with wide eyes. Nagini and Tom looked between each other for a moment and then back to Harry. 

"No Harry, they can't but there are rare occasions where people can talk in Parseltongue. Snake language. I can and I suppose you can too,"

Tom arrived infront of a door and opened it with his ellbow before stepping inside. The room was a large one and yet it seemed so cozy. There was a warmth seeping from every corner and it looked much like a living room with a bed than a bedroom. A fireplace sat underneathe a large tv, the walls a dark brown with gold edges. It was pristine. The ground natural wood with soft rugs here and there. Nagini slithered down to the ground and sat, watching the two quietly. The boy no longer smelt of death and pain which was good but she couldn't say the same for her master. He looked awful. 

"So this is my room, I hope you like it. You will be staying in here until I get your room sorted, when you are feeling better you could even help me pick out a few things for it," Tom explained as he placed Harry down in the sheets. When he did he frowned a little. He missed the feeling of him against his chest and the warmth it gave. It seemed Harry felt the same as Tom caught him shivering. He cleared his throat a little and yawned, caring for someone was exhausting but Tom didn't care, it was all worth it. 

"Thank you Tom, this is all too much," Harry frowned a little and crawled under the covers. Tom nodded and tucked Harry in properly. 

"Always. Nagini will stay with you for now, she will protect you I promise. I have some...business to sort out, okay?" Tom told the boy and adjusted himself. 

"Oh, O-Okay," Nagini slithered up onto the bed and curled herself around Harry to which he smiled weakily and ran his fingers over her scales. "What about my aunt? my uncle?"

Tom had begun to leave but froze at Harry's words. His eyes narrowed ahead of him and his teeth grazed his bottom lip. How could have he forgotten? They needed to pay. His buisiness has just had a change of route. He couldn't do this alone though. At least Bella would be happy about it. 

"Don't worry about them anymore, they are nothing but your past," With those last words, Tom left the room and locked the door. Just for extra safety. As much as he trusted Nagini to protect him he couldn't help that feeling of paranoia. 

***

The familiar crazed cackle echoed through walls. It was high pitched and sounded much like a school girl being told she was going to disneyland and to Bellatrix she was. To cause people pain and torture them was far better than some pedophiles dressed in costumes. Thats how she saw it anyway. The fear in there eyes was ectasy, she could stare at it all day and her high would never come down. 

"W-what do you want with us?" Petunia asked the two that stood before them, that cackle only echoing once more. Petunia's face was one of pure horror. 

"Oh shut up Bellatrix," Tom muttered.

"What? Ugh you are no fun anymore," she huffed in that high pitched childlike tone before flopping herself down onto an armchair in the Dursley's house. Tom rolled his eyes and turned to look at the people who had hurt Harry for all those years. The fear in their eyes made him scoff. They had no right to be scared. 

"Look at you, so pathetic. You think I am going to care? did you care when you saw the fear in Harry's eyes?" Tom's voice grew louder and louder as he grew more angry. Bellatrix looked on in excitement, happy to see some form of Tom's old darkness. "I shouldn't even say his name to you, you both deserve to die... but I'm not going to let you get off that easy. You are going to see how Harry felt,"

That was no threat either. It was a promise. 


	8. No escape

Harry had been feeling better not too long since he had been in the comfort of Tom's bed. He had warmed up to the other. First, when Tom wasn't there he began walking around the room, looking at all the walls and feeling the rugs. His favourite thing was the books. There were two large bookcases filled to the brim with books. He had begun trying to make sense of the words on the pages of a few but was finding it difficult to read. He had never been taught or even went to school. He only knew how to talk from the Dursley's and the loud television that was always on. 

The sun had not yet come up and the birds were not quiet awake yet but something had startled Harry awake. He sat upright rather abruptly and his eyes were wide. His chest heaved and his whole body shook. Sweat rolled down in beads and his whole body felt sticky. His whole body burned and ached but as he looked around it wasn't the cupboard covered in blood. It was the safety of Tom's home.

A nightmare. Yet, it wasn't quite just that. Harry felt the reality of it, he felt like it was real and didn't understand. He felt the pain and felt the blood trickling from his body but when he woke it was all gone. Harry put his head in his hands and cried into them. He didn't understand, no one would. He thought he was rid of it all but it seemed Vernon kept coming back to torture him. Harry figured it would be like that forever. He pulled the covers off of his legs and moved so his legs were hanging off the edge only to stand up. As he did, Tom's oversized shirt fell down and met midway down his thigh. His hair was a mess, sticking to his face where sweat was. His bare feet stuck to the wood as he walked but he paid no attention to that and instead carried on heading out of the door. He turned the handle and it swung open. Tom had said he would just be next door if he ever needed him and until now Harry hadn't made use of those words. He hadn't needed to. 

Slowly Harry reached the door. He stood outside of it for atleast a minute before plucking up the courage to grab the handle. This was his first time out of the room and the house was dark, all his nightmares were hiding in the shadows so leaving the comfort of the fire frightened him. Nevertheless he entered. What he found was an office, a small yet still large room with a desk and even more books. Tom was laid on a small couch at the back, a thin blanket covering his body. He looked so peaceful, not a worry on his otherwise flawless face. 

Seeing Tom made him relax a little more but the stains from the tears were still stuck to his pale cheeks. He carefully walked over and kneeled down beside the couch, his knees bruised and already use to the feeling of hard wood benethe them. Harry reached out to touch Tom but before he could Tom was awake and had his hand clasped around Harry's wrist; wand pointing dangerously at him. He always had to be alert. He knew there would be others out there to kill him. Harry tensed up, his body shaking in fear and his eyes once again brimming with tears. His wrist ached and that alone made Tom's own ache which in turn made him look clearer. 

"H-Harry? Oh no, I am so sorry, please don't be scared, you startled me, I-I...whats wrong? Harry?" Tom spoke quickly, his voice jumbled and not so clear as he panicked. In an instant he lowered his wand and let go of Harry's wrist. Harry trembled and cowered under Tom's hold, his eyes falling to the ground. He felt so angry at himself for letting his guard down. As soon as Tom let go Harry's instincts buzzed in his head and told him to run. To run and hide until the inevitable came. He didn't deny his instincts either, turning and sprinting as soon as he could. He ran as fast as his little legs could take him. He ended up in the room he was temporarily given. The only hiding spot to him was under the bed so he dived under there, it was a tight squeeze but he managed still. His body curled into a ball as it did when Vernon let his wrath loose on him. 

"Harry! Please! I'm sorry!" Tom called out, trying to get himself untangled from the blanket which only gave Harry time to actually run off. Otherwise, Tom would have caught him. He only caught up when he saw Harry dive under the bed. He ran his hands through his hair and gripped it tightly in frustration. He couched down and peaked over at him, what he saw broke his heart all over again. 

"Harry?" he called out with a sniffle, tears rolling freely from his eyes. The dark lord use to never show emotion. It was either anger or just a blank expression but right here, with Harry he showed it all. "I didn't mean to hurt you, I won't ever do it again, please, I am so so sorry,"

Tom was practically begging at this point, he slowly sat up and put his hands over his face, rubbing it aggressively in frustration at himself. Harry had listened and somehow, he knew he could trust his words. Slowly, he crawled his way out from under the bed, his eyes red and still holding slight fear. He sat opposite Tom and pulled the shirt over his knees nervously; fidgeting with his fingers as he did so. 

"T-Tom? I'm sorry for not listening and scarying you, you don't hate me do you?" Harry asked slowly, to which Tom looking up rather abruptly. His eyes wide and his head shaking in a fast motion. 

"No not at all! I could never!" He exclaimed and extended his arms to offer Harry a hug. Harry smiled weakily and shuffled himself over to lay in Tom's strong arms. Once he did, Tom wrapped his arms around him and rested his chin on his head. Harry relaxed into the sound of Tom's beating heart and Tom sighed in relief. Truth be told he was terrified of losing Harry and the trust he was just starting to build. He sat like that for a short while, not wanting the peaceful moment to end but he coudn't help but wonder. Why had Harry come to see him in the first place?

"What had happened flower? Why did you come see me?" Tom asked. 

"I-" Harry cut himself off, going to grip Tom's shirt but was met with the bare skin of his chest instead. He stiffened and his cheaks heated up. He wasn't sure how he didn't notice, he was just two wrapped up in emotions. "I had a nightmare, I think? I thought I was back there...It hurt and I could feel the blood an-and it was just horrible,"

Harry was shaking, his eyes pushing out tear after tear. Even just the memories where hard to deal with. Tom frowned and tightened his hold on Harry. He refused to let him ever think he was going to get hurt. Tom would never allow it and those who did hurt Harry or himself would get punished. Tom would always make sure of that. 

"They will never hurt you. Never again," Tom whispered.

"How are you so sure? What if th-" Harry was cut off by Tom.

"No, they can't and I will prove that to you in the morning. For now we both need to get some more rest," 

Harry nodded to Tom's words, yawning and stretching a little as Tom picked him up. He had gotten use to that. At first it made him uncomfortable and sick to his stomach but the more Tom did it, the more Harry trusted he wasn't going to throw him around. He looked at the bed and waited to be put down on it. They both knew Harry could walk very well on his own but they secretly both enjoyed the contact. Tom placed Harry back under the covers, tucking him in and making sure he was comfortable before starting to leave. Before he did, Harry rolled over to face him.

"W-wait, Tom?" Harry started, watching as Tom turned to face him. "That couch didn't look very comfortable...do you want to share the bed with me? Afterall, it is yours."

"Are you sure Harry? I don't want you to feel uncomfortable," Tom replied while looking hopeful. It would be heavenly to sleep beside him. Not only the comfort of the bed but the comfort of being able to protect Harry even more. To Tom's surprise Harry nodded eagerly and opened up the covers for Tom to come join him. Tom did so quickly, almost diving into the comfort of a proper bed. They both laid down and got comfortable before Harry rolled over and cuddled up to Tom's chest once more. 

"Thank you for making me feel safe Tom."

***

It was late in the afternoon when Harry woke up, Tom was still there and only just starting to stir. Harry stayed still, staring at Tom with curious eyes. Tom was one big riddle to him, a riddle he was slowly trying to unfold. It proved difficult but they hadn't known eachother for that long. Well Harry hadn't known him for that long. 

"You know, its rude to stare," Tom grumbled with a small smirk. His eyes were still closed but he was awake. Harry's cheeks flushed a bright pink and he hid into his chest with a little yelp. Tom chuckled and shook his head at him. He gently rubbed his back and kissed the top of his head. "Shhhh, its okay,"

Tom laughed a little more, sighing softly as he felt a wash of content. Waking up like this was definetly something he could get use to. Harry looked so cute in the morning, he was glad to see him alive and pain free. With a small frown however, Tom picked up Harry's arm to see a small bruise around his wrist. He whimpered slightly at the sight as he know he caused it but instead of dwelling on it, he simply kissed the small bruise softly, as an apology. Harry glanced up at Tom with a small frown; pulling his arm from his grip and shrugging a little. He didn't mind, it was the least he had ever endured and it was nice to see someone so remorseful of what they do. The same couldn't be said for his uncle. Harry groaned and clamped his hands around his head. He wished they would just go away, he wished he didn't have to feel the pain of the memories. Tom frowned and slowly sat himself up; taking Harry's hands from his head and slowly pulling him up. 

"Whats wrong?" He asked softly, his tone calm and gentle. 

"Why can't I be free? I am never going to be free of them Tom, I might as well be back there," Harry sighed, sniffiling softly but there where no tears. 

"I need to show you something Harry but I'm not sure you are ready, I know how to let you free, it will be the same way I got free," Tom had hurt those who wronged him and no longer did they haunt him. He didn't want to ruin Harry but he didn't know how else to help him. He just needed to buy himself some time. Everything took time. Harry looked up at Tom, glad to be with him. His stomach growled and he didn't have to ignore it. He could eat and that felt so good. 

"Breakfast then?" Tom asked and they both got up so they could eat. 


	9. Bookcase

"This story is called The Fountain of Fair Fortune, I will read some of it now but we can save the rest for tonight, maybe with the fire on," Tom spoke softly, the smile evident in the way he spoke, before starting. "High on a hill in an enchanted garden, enclosed by tall walls and protected by strong magic, flowed the Fountain of Fair Fortune.

"Once a year, between the hours of sunrise and sunset on the longest day, a single unfortunate was given the chance to fight their way to the Fountain, bathe in its waters and receive Fair Fortune for evermore.

"On the appointed day, hundreds of people travelled from all over the kingdom to reach the garden walls before dawn. Male and female, rich and poor, young and old, of magical means and without, they gathered in the darkness, each hoping that they would be the one to gain entrance to the garden.

"Three witches, each with her burden of woe, met on the outskirts of the crowd, and told one another their sorrows as they waited for sunrise.

"The first, by name Asha, was sick of a malady no Healer could cure. She hoped that the Fountain would banish her symptoms and grant her a long and happy life.

"The second, by name Altheda, had been robbed of her home, her gold and her wand by an evil sorcerer. She hoped that the Fountain might relieve her of powerlessness and poverty.

"The third, by name Amata, had been deserted by a man whom she loved dearly, and she thought her heart would never mend. She hoped that the Fountain would relieve her of her grief and longing.

"Pitying each other, the three women agreed that, should the chance befall them, they would unite and try to reach the Fountain together.

"The sky was rent with the first ray of sun, and a chink in the wall opened. The crowd surged forward, each of them shrieking their claim for the Fountain's benison. Creepers from the garden beyond snaked through the pressing mass, and twisted themselves around the first witch, Asha. She grasped the wrist of the second witch, Altheda, who seized tight upon the robes of the third witch, Amata.

"And Amata became caught upon the armour of a dismal-looking knight who was seated on a bone-thin horse.

"The creepers tugged the three witches through the chink in the wall, and the knight was dragged off his steed after them.

"The furious screams of the disappointed throng rose upon the morning air, then fell silent as the garden walls sealed once more.

"Asha and Altheda were angry with Amata, who had accidentally brought along the knight.

""Only one can bathe in the Fountain! It will be hard enough to decide which of us it will be, without adding another!"

"Now, Sir Luckless, as the knight was known in the land outside the walls, observed that these were witches, and, having no magic, nor any great skill at jousting or duelling with swords, nor anything that distinguished the non-magical man, was sure that he had no hope of beating the three women to the Fountain. He therefore declared his intention of withdrawing outside the walls again.

"At this, Amata became angry too.

""Faint heart!" she chided him. "Draw your sword, Knight, and help us reach our goal!"

"And so the three witches and the forlorn knight ventured forth into the enchanted garden, where rare herbs, fruit and flowers grew in abundance on either side of the sunlit paths. They met no obstacle until they reached the foot of the hill on which the Fountain stood.

"There, however, wrapped around the base of the hill, was a monstrous white Worm, bloated and blind."

Tom stopped there and slowly closed the book, only to gain a short disappointed whine coming from Harry's direction. Tom raised a brow and looked over to see him pouting. He couldn't help but laugh at the sight which just turned Harry's expression to a smile instead. Since the other night the pair had gotten even closer. There was hardly a moment Tom would leave the others side. Just so Harry knew he was protected. Tom had pretty much become a father to the other and as much as he wished it was different, he had to patient. Something which the dark lord was not known for.Today, the had spent the morning in bed and Tom had started teaching Harry to read upon his request. Harry seemed to be a fast learner and as a reward for reading the first story in the tales of beedle the bard, Tom started reading the first one to him. The only reason he stopped was so they actually did something productive, even if it wasn't much. With that, Tom pulled away from the sweet embrace and pushed himself out of the bed. 

"Tom?" Harry asked, sitting up and shuffling to the end of the bed. Tom had made a promise and as much as Harry never said anything he still thought about it. He was confused as to how Tom would prove that the Durslys would never get their grip on him again. 

"Yes flower?" Tom replied with a short hum, rasing a brow in his direction. He kneeled on the ground infront of Harry to get at his eye level. He was so pleased to see him slowly getting healthier. He looked brighter and relaxed, he didn't look so sick. At least something he was doing was working. 

"You said they couldn't get me? but how?" Harry asked, his eyes stuck to his lap as his legs swung. Tom tensed up, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. He knew what he had to do but he wanted Harry to be safe and happy. Then again, he didn't want to keep treating the boy like a child. Afterall, he was to be going to hogwarts soon. He would have rathered he didn't but Tom knew he wouldn't be able to teach Harry well enough. With a sigh, Tom stood and walked over to the bookcase, studying it before pulling out his wand. Harry stood and watched him with confused eyes. He would have asked but was a little apprehensive of the wand, he had found out he was a wizard but was adamant that he was wrong. He didn't believe he could ever be something so powerful, he was weak and that was something he was sure of.

"Alohomora," Tom said with a flick of his wrist. As he did he turned his head to look at Harry, Harry's eyes were wide with bewilderment, he had no idea how that could possibly happen. There was no more denying it. Wizards and witches, magic, existed. Tom offered Harry his hand with a cautious smile. "Come on, I've got you,"

Harry slowly nodded and stepped forward to take Tom's hand. He felt safe when he was close to him so wasn't so shaky anymore. When he got to Tom's side, what he saw was the bookcase's having flipped to reveal a steep stairwell leading into nothing but darkness. The smell was wretched yet familiar and that scared him more. Harry took a quick step backwards, his eyes wide as he shook his head vigerously. Tom frowned and tugged on his hand as if to say it was okay. Nodding; he took a deep breath and let Tom lead the way. Harry felt unsteady on the stairs but it didn't take him long to get to the bottom. Tom refused to let go but while holding his wand he reached out to grab the string that turned one bright light bulb on the top of the basement ceiling. The light flickered for a moment but soon illuminated two bodies. One fat and one thin. Harry's recognision of them happened almost instantly, his eyes widened and he took a step back; cowering behind Tom as he studied their bodies. 

It was something that looked much like what they did to him. Petunia was strung up like a pig freshly slaughtered and yet she was still very much alive, she had a few marks and wounds but nothing compared to Vernon's composition. He was there, naked and tied up to one of the supporting beams with bruises, burns and cuts all over his body, Harry could see yellow fat within some of the fresher wounds. As much as he felt disgusted in himself for thinking it, he enjoyed to see he was now suffering. 

"Potter," Vernon spat in a harsh tone, his voice rough and dry. "You will pay for this, when I get my hands on y-"

"CRUCIO!" Tom screamed in anger, his wand pointed at the fat man. Loud echoes of screams filled the room, not manly ones either, pathetic screams that only made Tom smirk. He let Harry's hand slip as he stalked up to Vernon's face, staring at it with nothing but anger. "You may never speak to him like that again, I can do much worse to you,"

"Harry, this is why they can never get to you, they will be here, going through your life until their miserable muggle bodies give up on them. From there, hell will take care of them for me," Harry watched in awe, he felt strong and powerful, like they couldn't do anything to him and yet he could do as he wished to them. Much to Tom's surprise Harry was taking it splendidly. He couldn't be prouder of him. He went to step away but was stopped as Harry came over and spoke up. 

"C-can I have a go? Hurting him I mean," He asked, Tom's eyes widened but he then smiled and nodded. He held up a finger as if to say one moment before walking away and picking up a knife. He was a bit hesitant, he didn't want Harry accidentally hurting himself but was sure he could handle it. Harry slowly took the handle, feeling the light metal work in his hands. It was all going to be okay, he had the power now. Not Vernon. Harry smirked a little and gripped it tighter, the look in Vernon's eyes was one Harry was estatic to see. There was no way he would back down. That was evident as he plunged the knife into Vernon's stomach. Blood and more screams sent a shiver down his spine.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoy! Please leave some feedback, I would love to read it!


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